Hidden meanings abound. We should expect nothing less from an article about Derrida who, afterall, gave us the term "deconstruction" - whatever that is.

I wasn't thrilled with Sakamoto's music in the post. So I watched a couple of film clips of Derrida himself in hopes that the article would not be a complete waste of time. He spoke mostly in French. There were subtitles. One particular subtitle became the inspiration for this post on Mixed Meters.

But if the subtitle is to be believed (at 3'22"), I must have misheard.

It must mean something deep. I suggest that you not think about it too hard. Unless you're a violist. Or a voilaist.

Here's a short video of a viola deconstruction.

Here at MM we realize that there are always at least two ways of looking at anything. So I am proud to announce that this is Mixed Meters' six hundredth post, or maybe, if you'd rather believe Google, the host of Blogger, this is actually number 601. Either way a highly insignificant milestone has finally been passed. Thanks for reading - whoever you are.

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

It's another episode of a favorite on-going irregular MM feature. You can count on it to appear when my time is short and I need a simple post requiring minimal thought.

The previous installment featured only potable music and this time we drink in two more: a pluckable tequila and a liquid Italian opera composer, who, it turns out, goes over well with babies and children. Next are two masters of their art followed by two signs of a euphonious city. Also watch out for a smokin' military wake-up call and a garden variety string instrument for less than $5.

Sunday, April 22, 2012

Music, at its best, is a mystery for the listener. A dose of uncertainty about exactly what is happening on stage can turn an average performance into a sublime listening experience. These days, high technology can be used to intensify this aura of musical mystique better than just about anything.

Electronic music technology abounds in the form of portable sound processing equipment (as represented by laptops, tablets and even smartphones). Composers and performers are using these digital tools to create and explore as yet unknown musical worlds. They produce new sounds, new textures and new ways of playing together. A listener may not be able to identify exactly how the music is created, but it is clear that the performers are doing it ... somehow.

One such group - a duet called Shackle, Anne LaBerge and Robert van Heumen - is on the cutting edge of such music voyages of discovery. Here's their self-description.

Shackle is a band. We make improvised music and use a computer system to structure our improvisations.

They describe their electronics as as

a cutting-edge digital cueing system which operates as a sometimes visible third member

and

a computerized communication system that proposes various compositional elements to each player, they can then choose whether or not to cooperate with the proposed material.

In other words, they're not telling us much. What is clear is that it is some sort of "system". The flute is played. Sounds are modified electronically and also sampled for further modification. We are told that there is improvisation - but it seems impossible to know what is planned and what is spontaneous. A joystick is moved as if in some sort of game. We watch as pedals are pushed and buttons poked. We hear the sound change.

But we cannot predict the sounds we hear from the actions we see. It is hard, even impossible, to find an answer when we wonder "How did they do that?" Failing to find an answer for how the technology works opens up a possibility for a listener to seek out the mystery in the music.

Shackle is trying to raise a modest amount of money via Kickstarter to fund the distribution of their music.

They want to use a unique new medium - the USB stick. The little beastie, called The Shackle Stick, will contain video and photographs as well as an hour of music. In an era when storing and listening to music on computer is increasingly the norm, someday sticks may well become a common format for sharing music. But for now, it's a new idea.

Here's another video of Anne and Robert self consciously trying to stay relaxed on camera as they explain who they are, describe what their project is and ask for your support.

A quarter century ago Anne and I played in an improvisation group, the Golia LaBerge Ocker Trio. (There are three short improvs available for listening.)

Anne has already gone where no flutist has gone before. Here's her website. You can listen to her mysterious talents as flute soloist. Mixed Meters recommends her recent album Speak on which she also tells stories.

Once Anne visited L.A. and was presented to a class of music students at CalArts by Vinny Golia. You can watch event that here.

Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Here's a little movie I ran into on the Internet. If you've ever wished someone would push a burning piano - an old upright in this case - from the top of the Empire State Building, then this video will be three and a half minutes well spent.

Lots of sepia tones. A very old feel. New York in slowest motion. I suspect that this is a work of high technology - although you might never notice the technique as you watch the piano fall.

The film is credited to Jeff Desom, the music, entitled Morgenrot, a simple waltz from the album Ferndorf, to Hauschka.

Here's another piano epic by the same duo - Bloksky - focusing more on the artist than on the instrument.